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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #fat
So what is love then is it dictated or chosen (handed down and made by hand) Does it sing like the hymns of a thousand years Or is it just pop emotion (handed down and made by hand) And if it ever was there and it left Does it mean it was never true And to exist it must elude Is that why I think these things of you? ↗
Kaldar smiled at her. Now there was a work of art. If she were just a girl and he were just a man, and they met at a party, that smile would've guaranteed him a date. The man was hot. There was no doubt. But right now, all it would get him was a solid punch in those even teeth. Audrey laughed. "Aren't you sweet? Tell me, do girls usually throw their panties at you when you do that?" He grinned wider, and she glimpsed the funny evil spark in his eyes. "Do men throw money when you do your little Southern belle? ↗
#fate-s-edge #ilona-andrews #kaldar #southern-belle #the-edge
I focused on his eyes and really locked onto them. I could feel myself falling into a world of blue that wiped the chills from my body and filled my heart with warmth. The depths I could see in his eyes were far more than any hallucination could create. I recognized them as the eyes I gave my heart and soul to. They were the same ones that gave me Hunter’s whole being and never looked back. There was no doubt in my mind this was the man I fell in love with. I was doing it all over again in that very moment. ↗
She loved him, and she was going to do everything she could to get him back. She hadn’t come this far just to walk away. He was the love of her life, dammit. The man she wanted to marry. The world had reversed its orbit to bring them back together, for Pete’s sake, and she wasn’t going down without a fight. Fate could only do so much; the rest was up to her. ↗
Joshie has always told Post Human Services Staff to keep a diary, to remember who we were because every moment, our brains and synapses are being rebuilt and rewired with maddening disregard for our personalities, so that each year, each month, each day, we transfer into a different person, an utterly unfaithful iteration of our original selves, of the drooling kid in the sandbox. But not me. I am still a facsimile of my early childhood. I am still looking for a loving dad to lift me up and brush the sand off my ass and to hear English, calm and hurtless, fall off his lips. ↗
#dad #diary #father #love #personality
